


Take the edge off of banging a dude

by smooth_operaptor



Series: Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [3]
Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Because they are both drunk, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Relationship, Roommates, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooth_operaptor/pseuds/smooth_operaptor
Summary: He doesn’t know if he’s lucky or stupid. He’s hopeful, he always tells himself, and it’s a much nicer term than needy, clingy,stuck.(Takes place 10 years ago)
Relationships: Orange Cassidy/Chuck Taylor
Series: Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052237
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	Take the edge off of banging a dude

**Author's Note:**

> wrestling in general strikes a fascinating balance between homoeroticism and homophobia
> 
> this was a challenge to myself to write something less sweet

They’re watching some mediocre action movie riddled with ad breaks and he would rather talk about the new Fast and Furious they’re making, but he stops himself. It’s more of a topic for tomorrow’s hangover breakfast. Right now, they are decently buzzed, he’s tucked into Chuck’s side and he doesn’t want to distract from what’s next.

Sometimes he considers going to bed before this happens. Leave Chuck alone on the couch. Do his best to get over his stupid useless _clichéd_ little unreciprocated crush. Call back that guy from the gym.

Chuck’s arm is hanging over the back of the couch. There’s a long boring stealth sequence on screen and now he’s yawning and stretching his arms out next to him. In the hands of a more subtle actor, it would almost seem innocuous the way his arm just happens to land around Orange’s shoulders afterwards. Orange suppresses a small satisfied shudder and he feels the hairs on his neck stand on end.

Orange doesn’t ever initiate anything. He lets Chuck come to him. He never makes the first move.

Guess he likes to be wanted.

Chuck moves his hand from his left shoulder over across his neck to his right. He leaves a trail of goosebumps on Orange’s skin but at least they’re hidden by his t-shirt. They both stare ahead at the screen where the villain is ranting at the protagonist. A henchman puts a gun to his temple and it cuts to commercial.

He doesn’t know if he’s lucky or stupid. He’s hopeful, he always tells himself, and it’s a much nicer term than needy, clingy, stuck.

Chuck starts sliding his hand down his shoulder, over his chest and lands on his thigh. His fingers are splayed and Orange’s breath hitches at how big it looks against his leg. His skin is burning just from the contact.

He always stays though, for this weird drunken game of gay chicken they are playing, which starts with a shitty movie Orange lets Chuck pick (because it really doesn’t matter on those nights) and ends with a desperate hand job or sloppy oral. It’s usually quick and dirty, usually over before they’ve even begun. Yet, he feels it’s enough. (It’s more than he deserves, more than Chuck would give him otherwise.)

They stay like that until the movie returns. Chuck doesn’t acknowledge where his hand is sitting and Orange tries to hide how tense it’s making him. He swallows around a dry throat and waits.

Chuck’s hand finally leaves his thigh and he turns around on the couch so he’s facing Orange. Orange turns his head to look at him and stays quiet.

“C’mere,” Chuck says and it feels less like an invitation and more like a command. Orange could interrogate what this means about Chuck’s hang-ups around control, but then he moves back against the armrest and makes room for Orange between his legs. He has to set one foot down on the floor and lean his left leg against the backrest.

Orange scoots over and sits back on his knees between Chuck’s legs with his hands in his lap. Even though the couch is small, they fit together very neatly and Orange wants Chuck to notice.

His breathing is shallow and he waits for Chuckie’s next move.

Chuck reaches out and places his hand under his chin. Thank _god_ Orange shaved this morning. Chuck can still get startled by his stubble and– _he won’t read into that right now_.

Chuck kisses him, finally. He’s slow and hesitant, but Orange can almost imagine that it is tenderness. He hums appreciatively and at last Chuckie deepens the kiss. He uses the hand under Orange’s chin to tip his head further back and lick into his mouth hungrily. They both taste like cheap beer. Chuckie sucks on his bottom lip and it’s intoxicating. He moans against Chuck’s mouth.

He lays his right hand on Chuck’s knee and moves it forward steadily until he reaches his fly. There’s a flicker of discomfort he catches in Chuck’s face when they break from the kiss and make eye contact, but it’s quickly swallowed by drunken horniness.

Chuck closes his eyes again and leans back further on the armrest. A wave of his hand bids him to continue.

He grinds the heel of his hand down once and Chuckie throws his head back and moans. He is already hard.

He works his pants open and grabs Chuck’s dick. He starts slow and works up to a practiced rhythm and moves his own hips in time with his strokes to relieve _some_ pressure. Chuck’s head is tipped back and he’s panting heavily. Other than that, he’s not quite sure Chuck won’t just drift off in a couple minutes.

Shit, he had hoped he’d at least get to blow him tonight.

When Chuck tells him to wait in a semi-slurred mumble, it takes him a few moments until he’s registered it and stops his hand. Chuck sits up straight and the sudden movement makes Orange almost loose his balance. He sways for a second and blinks a couple times.

“What?” he asks. Then he shakes his head quickly, once, twice, to regain his focus. They sit there and he stares at Chuck’s shoulder in front of him.

There’s a look on Chuck’s face Orange can’t quite place. Chuck furrows his brows and his heart drops. Chuck holds the eye contact a little longer, then shakes his head to himself.

“Yo, you um,“ he clears his throat, “You would- would you let me fuck you?” he asks.

“Uhhhhhhhh-,” he manages and stares at Chuck. Should he tone down his enthusiasm so he won’t let on how much he has wanted this? Is it better to look eager?

“Yeah,” he finishes lamely and leaves the rest up to Chuckie, who looks relieved and anxious in equal parts.

“Do you have lube?”

“Lube?”

“Yeah, lube. You probably have some lying around, right?”

“Probably.”

“Alright, okay, then go get it. Please?”

They stand up and linger there in front of the couch, unsure how to proceed. Chuck doesn’t say anything. Just pats his ass once to encourage him towards his bedroom.

After he grabs the lube from his nightstand he stops for one second to gather his thoughts. Be cool about this, he tells himself.

He turns around and Chuck is waiting for him in the doorframe. Bathed in yellow light from his shitty bedside lamp he is positively beautiful. His heart clenches in such a familiar way it’s comforting. He toys with the bottle of lube in his hands. They should maybe talk about this, about them, what they are to each other, their _needs_. But. He is drunk and horny and _tired_ so he leaves all of this for post-hangover smart-brain Orange to figure out.

Chuck sits down on his bed and for an instant it seems as if he knows how often Orange has lain there, thinking about him. He shifts his seat on the mattress and looks over at Orange.

Orange throws the lube at him to break the eye contact, then sits down next to Chuck. He wants to run both of his hands through his hair and kiss him recklessly, kiss him so hard Chuck feels him on his lips tomorrow, but he waits.

Chuck seems to think hard for a second, then shoves Orange down with the hand holding the lube. The edge of the plastic tube digs a little into his skin and his hands come up to wrestle it away from Chuck again. He gets it free but Chuck immediately pins down his hand next to his head. His other hand hangs onto Chuck’s wrist that’s clutched into the front of his shirt. 

They are at an awkward angle on the edge of the bed so Chuck hikes him up by his armpits and manhandles him up the mattress until they are both completely on the bed. Then he climbs fully over him and they continue making out. Soon, they are not even properly kissing anymore, just breathing heavily against each other’s mouth. Occasionally he feels Chuck’s tongue slide over his.

Chuck moves and presses his knee between Orange’s legs. He feels deliciously surrounded by Chuck from all sides right now and he is fully hard.

Chuck removes his leg quickly and breaks the kiss. There’s a slight draft from the cracked-open window and he shivers at the loss of Chuckie’s warmth.

“Sooo, you know how to get ready for butt stuff, right?”

His tone makes it almost an accusation. Jokingly, but still…

Instead he nods.

“Alright, um, get started, I forgot me beer in the other room,” Chuck says and stands up, “don’t want that to go bad.” He gives a strained smile and finger guns and walks out of the room.

Orange isn’t sure whether he should lock his door before he can come back or wait for him to curse him out. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Really, _this_ far in he has to stop for a drink? To take the edge off of banging a dude? He stares at his ceiling for a moment longer, sighs deeply and sits up. His head spins a little and he massages his temples. Shit, he’s in for a nasty hangover tomorrow.

“Heyyy, guess who’s back, _babeee_ ,” Chuck announces himself and waltzes in again. He has an unopened bottle of water from the couch table in his hand and gives it to Orange. His shoulders sag in relief and he takes a few grateful gulps of room temperature water.

“You’re not even naked yet! Come on, show _off_ those titties!”

“Alright, alright, I’m gonna pop it off,” Orange tells him and screws on the cap again and pushes the bottle from the bed. One of his arms gets stuck in his t-shirt and it takes some wriggling to get himself free. By the time he gets rid of the thing his cheeks are blushed and Chuck is grinning at him, his own shirt already off.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Chuckie says after a deep breath and starts opening his belt. Orange performs some contortions to get his pants and underwear off without standing up and kicks them off the bed in record time to watch Chuck undress.

They’ve been roommates, tag partners, they’ve trained together countless times, but this is the first time they are seeing each other fully naked. At that, his blush spreads down all the way to his chest. He almost wants to avert his eyes out of a misplaced sense of privacy when Chuck steps out of his pants– and he’s still wearing his boxers.

He looks up at Chuck, who is staring down at him, and they stay like that for a gruesome while.

“Nice hog, dude,” Chuck jokes and Orange returns him a breathy chuckle.

“Seriously though, I have _never_ done this before. You kinda gotta take the lead on this.”

Orange moves to sit back at the head of the bed and Chuck sits down cross-legged at the other end.

“I’ll watch, maybe I’ll learn something.”

He wants to shoot back with how he definitely _should_ learn something, if he wants to do this again (please, let him want to do this again), but his dick is hard and banter isn’t solving that.

So he just nods and grabs the bottle of lube again. He adjusts his seat and spreads his legs in front of Chuck. He ducks his head down, unable to meet Chuck’s gaze, and squirts some lube on his fingers. There is a tight spot in his abdomen and he leaves it for later to figure out if he likes being watched masturbating.

He moves his right hand down until the tips of his fingers reach his hole. With a smooth motion he squeezes his balls lightly, strokes over the base of his dick with his thumb and starts circling his rim. His moves his hips in tandem and closes his eyes in pleasure. After a minute or so, he begins dipping in his middle finger to his first knuckle. Every few strokes he moves his hand up and pumps his dick. He hears Chuckie’s labored breathing and finally looks up into his eyes.

Chuck looks enraptured. His hands are clasped tightly onto his knees.

“Touch yourself,” Orange gasps out.

Chuckie accepts the permission gladly and reaches into his boxers. He doesn’t even seem to notice he is exactly matching Orange’s pace.

Now he’s torn between giving a show worth remembering and getting himself ready quickly.

He reaches his left hand under and around his leg and starts working himself open from a different angle. He works his middle and index finger in before he has to re-up on lube. He bites his lip when he sinks them in again. Hopefully Chuck is gonna do the honors one day, because the different angle would mean he could get his fingers much deeper. With that thought, he has to bite back a moan. His cock is an angry red and profusely leaking pre-come, but he lets it lie abandoned on his stomach for now.

He goes for another minute, then slowly retreats his hands. The mattress dips as Chuck moves closer, underwear finally off. Orange’s mouth begins watering when he sees his cock. But before he can get his hands on it, Chuck leans over to his discarded pants and fishes out a condom and rolls it on.

Chuck puts his hands on Orange’s thighs and pushes them further apart. Orange passes him the bottle of lube. He coats his cock liberally and lines himself up with Orange’s entrance.

“Spread yourself open for me,” he asks him in a low tone.

His hands shake slightly as he reaches them down to his ass again. This time, he doesn’t hold back and moans as Chuck slides in. He isn’t as relaxed as he should be optimally, but Chuck is patient and pushes in slowly.

“You’re so pretty for me.”

Orange keens, high and drawn out, and Chuck pulls out until only his tip remains. He takes a steadying breath, then pushes in again. He takes his hands from his ass and moves them up his thighs until he touches Chuck’s fingers.

Chuck catches his wrists and pins them next to his shoulders. It makes him change his angle and they both gasp out as he hits deeper. He manages to hit Orange’s prostate a few times and Orange answers every one with a whine.

“Fuck, I hope the neighbors don’t hear that, baby,” Chuck groans in his ear before he kisses him.

When they break apart, he looks Orange over and releases one of his wrists to pat his side.

“Turn around.” 

Orange has to blink a few times to focus, then slowly gets up and turns around. He casts one last glance over his shoulder back at Chuck, then gets on his hands and knees. When Chuck grabs his ass and plunges back into him, his arms give out and he lands face-first in his pillow.

The new position feels glorious, but his voice gets muffled every time he moans.

“Yeah, that’s it, so good, baby, so pretty for me,” he hears Chuck say and he arches his back in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so _flexible_ , I bet I could fold you in half and you’d beg for more,” Chuck continues and Orange turns his head to the side to breathe easier.

“You’re so fucking soft and pretty and _tiny_ , you’re almost like a gi-“

Orange drowns him out with a loud moan for his own sake. The tight feeling in his abdomen is back and he tells himself he must be close. Chuck hasn’t touched his dick at all, so he sneaks down a hand to help himself along.

Chuck must be close, because he’s not addressing Orange anymore, just muttering under his breath.

Orange presses his eyes closed and lets himself be overwhelmed. This is real, this is actually happening. It’s different than he fantasized but still every nerve ending in him is tingling and his skin feels hot.

That’s Chuck fucking him, that is his cock in him right now, shit, they need to get tested, if he gets a next time, he needs Chuckie to cum _in_ him–

He’s over the edge.

He cums in bursts onto his mattress below him. He clenches around Chuck, who’s rhythm falters as his tempo increases. Orange blindly reaches over to his nightstand for a tissue to clean his hand. He starts moving his hips backwards to meet Chuckie’s thrusts and it doesn’t take long until he comes. He likes how Chuck sounds.

Chuck lets go of his hips after he pulls out and he falls onto his side facing the wall, exhausted and breathing heavily. He hears Chuck tie off the condom and throw it into his garbage can successfully, based on Chuckie’s reaction.

He doesn’t trust his voice, so he gives him a lazy thumbs-up in acknowledgement. Chuck laughs, turns off the light and lies down behind him. He leaves a little bit of space to avoid the wet spot Orange hasn’t cleaned up, but puts his arm around Orange’s waist.

Orange moves his hand over and enlaces their fingers. He hears a small hitch of Chuck’s breath behind his ear, but he doesn’t pull away his hand.

His heart melts a little.

“We need to talk about this,” he tells Chuck in a low voice.

He hopes his tone conveys he doesn’t mean now, but when their heads are clearer. Right now, he just wants to go to sleep cuddling Chuckie.

The answering silence stretches so long he begins doubting himself, Chuck has fallen asleep already and must not have heard him.

He stares ahead at the dark wall and tries to think of ways to broach the topic when they wake up or something.

“No,” Chuck finally whispers but the plea is loud enough. He kisses Orange’s shoulder and turns around to get off the bed.

Chuck gathers his clothes from the floor as Orange drifts off to sleep and leaves without another word.

This is still a step in the right direction.


End file.
